


Not a Trick...?

by writeswithfeatherquills



Category: Supernatural, Undertale
Genre: Gen, Wow there's no sans/gabriel jokes and pranks battles on here yet?, for like two paragraphs, guess I'm the first, minor 4th wall breaks, please don't let that put you off nothing happens i promise, starts off in a strip club, this is gonna be fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-26 18:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6250840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeswithfeatherquills/pseuds/writeswithfeatherquills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel from Supernatural, the Trickster himself, finds out about the Undertale crew.<br/>That's what this is. Have fun.<br/>(HONESTLY THOUGH GABRIEL AND SANS WOULD GET ALONG SO WELL? OR SO TERRIBLY? LETS FIND OUT)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was really loud in here. But, then again, it was a strip club, so that was as it should be. Honestly, everything was as it should be. Loud music, hot babes, greasey sleezeballs waving equally greasey bills, everything was perfect.

Except for that newspaper. 

The honey-eyed man whom this story is centered around noticed it while the next dancer was coming up to the main stage. He assumed that the guy who had been at the table last had left it there, but it didn’t really matter. What mattered was the story printed on the front page. Now, I know what you’re thinking. 

What the hell is a guy in a strip club doing looking at a newspaper?

Your guess is as good as mine. But, regardless, his eyes were drawn to the headline, which read “MONSTERS APPEAR FROM UNDERGROUND” in bold letters. The man raised an eyebrow and picked up the paper, and shoved it in his coat pocket, then returned to watching FoXXy, the interesting, plot-advancing newspaper left forgotten in his pocket.

What did you think was gonna happen? He was gonna read the newspaper in a  _ strip club _ ?

 

* * *

 

Gabriel flopped down on the deluxe size king bed, reaching blindly into nothing and grabbing a toblerone. Good stuff, toblerone. Say what you want about the swiss, but they do know their way around a chocolate bar. He sat up, and as he munched on the chocolate, he pulled out that newspaper, looking over the headline again.

“Monsters appear from underground, huh? That’s quite the trick.” He mused as he read the article. After every sentence he expected a punchline, but somehow he got all the way through the confusing thing, and none came. 

“What the hell?” He muttered to himself. This thing was completely serious. He glanced at the name of the crazy rag--The New York Times. Well, okay, so maybe one of the most reliable newspapers in the country had decided to let loose a little, play a little joke. He could appreciate a good joke. They probably called it back in the next edition, came out with a nice big “Fooled ya!” and laughed at the general populace. Let’s see, this was printed...three days ago. Alright.

He pulled a laptop out of nowhere and started searching. Sammy boy would be proud. The next few issues of the Times...had more stories about monsters. And not a “Fooled ya” to be found.

“MONSTER’S AMBASSADOR A TEN YEAR OLD CHILD”

“MONSTERS CLAIM GOODWILL, SKEPTICS ARGUE”

“MONSTER-HUMANS RELATIONS PRESS CONFERENCE SCHEDULED, WORLD LEADERS TO ATTEND”

Okay, this was getting a little ridiculous. I mean, maybe he could have taken it seriously, but a ten-year-old ambassador? Gabriel shook his head. The trick to a good trick is to make it credible, not more ridiculous. But…

There was a picture printed on the last issue, of a group of monsters and who he guessed was the “ambassador” smiling as they shook the hand of some bigwig in a suit. Behind them Gabriel counted two skeletons, two goat lookin’ creatures, a fish with an eyepatch, a small, nervous looking dinosaur, and...well, it was pretty smudged in the photo, but it looked like another skeleton in a black coat. Sort of. It all looked pretty legit, but Gabriel knew firsthand the power of photoshop, so he guessed he would just have to figure out this trick for himself. Even if they were dragging it out a little long, this one would be hilarious when they finally pulled the punchline. He almost wished he had thought of it himself. It looked like the press conference was going to be in New York in...an hour. How convenient!

There was a whoosh of air accompanied by a brief flash of golden feathers, and the Trickster was gone.

 

* * *

 

Frisk fidgeted slightly behind the curtain, waiting for their cue to go on stage.

“nervous, kid?” Sans asked, glancing down at them with his ever-present grin. They decided to take a page out of his book and plastered on a smile of their own, and shook their head.

“heh. don’t worry kid, we’ll be right behind ya.” 

“Remember, my child, if you do not wish to answer a question, you may simply let us handle it.” Toriel added, and Asgore nodded assent. 

“THE HUMAN WILL NOT NEED ANY HELP! THEY WILL WIN OVER THESE OTHER HUMANS JUST AS EASILY AS THEY DID LITERALLY EVERY MONSTER IN THE UNDERGROUND, I AM SURE OF IT!” Papyrus said, his overwhelming confidence making Frisk feel both much better and a whole lot worse. What if they messed this up? What if they said something wrong, and the humans banished the monsters back underground? They weren’t sure magic bullets could stand up to actual bullets; the monsters wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Yeah! And if they don’t, I’ll break ‘em all in half!” Undyne shouted, pounding her chest with a scaly fist.

“U-uh, I’m not sure t-that’s really…”

“Alright, Ambassador, you’re on.” An attendant, also in a suit, motioned to the stage. Frisk took one last self-conscious glance down at their sweater, the same one they wore all through the underground, but patched up by Toriel, and shook their head. Nothing they could do about their perhaps not-quite-appropriate wardrobe choice now. They stood up behind a podium, standing taller than they ever had before on the stepladder provided, and looked out over the crowd. There...were a lot of people here. The press conference was open to the public, so the large auditorium was full to bursting with jostling crowds, which all fell to an immediate hush when Frisk stepped on the stage. Oh boy. They took a deep breath, and cleared their throat. Oh boy. Could they do this? There was so much riding on this, they had to do it right, they just had to! Oh boy, Chara had literally died trying to free the monsters and that didn’t work, so how were they supposed to make people understand just by talking? It had worked with the monsters but humans were a little different. Oh boy. They couldn’t do this. 

Then, their eyes caught on a man in the back. He didn’t look very remarkable, really. He was wearing a green jacket, and had longish dirty blond hair, golden eyes, and a decidedly mischevious grin. In fact, probably the only reason Frisk noticed him at all was to introduce him to the small ambassador and advance the plot. He seemed to chuckle to himself, and shook his head slightly as if in surprised acceptance. It was the only movement in the room, and it seemed to ease the tense silence some, despite the fact that he didn’t make a sound. The man looked pleased as punch, like he was witnessing a hilarious joke. Like Sans when he told a good (terrible) pun.

Then the man slowly lifted his hands, still the only movement in the room, and made a simple motion that nearly made Frisk laugh out loud.

  
The man in the back flashing them a double thumbs-up filled them with DETERMINATION.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Press Conference (Sound Effects Included)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome the Winchesters, Gabriel is a Little Shit, some dumb ass human gets dunked on.  
> Fun times.

"MONSTERS APPEAR FROM UNDERGROUND”

The man reading the newspaper frowned at it, pushing his shaggy hair out of his eyes and blinking a few times. When the article remained as it was (confusing, worrying, giving off a general vibe of what the hell????) he scanned the text, getting more and more confused with every word until he ended up staring at the cherry on top of the weird sundae--a photograph showing a group of...friendly looking monsters. He finally looked up, meeting eyes with his brother, who was halfway through a burger and halfway done with making completely inappropriate sounds because of said burger.

“Dean, have you seen this?”

Dean Winchester shook his head, reaching out with one hand to motion to the younger to hand him the paper. Sam eyed the grease dripping from the outstretched digits with disgust.

“Dude.”

“What? Do ya want me to see it or not?” Dean asked as a bit of onion fell from his burger. Sam sighed and rolled his eyes, but handed over the newspaper. He watched, hands in his pockets, as his brother raised his eyebrows at the headline, and glanced back at Sam. He didn't say anything, but his face screamed “are you kidding me?” Sam motioned to the paper.

“Keep reading.”

Sighing, Dean went back to the article, and read through it. At some point the burger ended up back on the plate, half finished and growing cold.

Practically sacrilege.

Finally, Dean set down the paper and looked back at his brother.

“What the hell is that?” he asked. “Monsters from underground? Monsters...not trying to kill people? Or feed from them? Or possess them?”

Sam shrugged, looking bewildered. “I dunno, man. It's definitely nothing like we've ever seen before.”

“Think it's worth checking out? I mean, it could be just a prank or something.”

“...That's the New York Times, Dean. I don't think they'd pull a prank.”

There was a pause. Sam took his brothers silence to mean he was considering it.

“Tell you what.” Sam said, sitting down and pulling his laptop out of his bag. “let me do some research while you finish your burger.”

Dean glanced back down at the burger, now cold and rather unappetizing. He heaved a sigh and stood up.

“Forget it, I'm gonna go see if they have pie.”

 

* * *

 

Holy shit it wasn’t a joke. There were actual monsters, and an actual ten year old ambassador. Gabriel couldn’t believe it. Not only were the monsters real, but they seemed...friendly? Like, really friendly. He had seen the taller skeleton from the photo as he came in, and the guy was practically lighting up the room with energy and charm. These definitely weren’t your typical angry, murderous, call-the-Winchesters monsters. They were a whole different breed. 

And they picked a little kid to represent them to the whole of humanity. 

It was a ballsy move, as the suits the kid would be facing didn’t understand cuteness, or inexperience, or probably love even. He had played “jokes” on enough corrupt politicians to know that there were precious few that weren’t corrupt. This kid was gonna have one hell of a time trying to plead their case. 

And it seemed like the kid knew it. They were standing behind the podium, practically quaking in their boots, looking out over the audience, which was silent as a tomb. Gabriel chuckled to himself and shook his head. Boy, they sure looked terrified. That wouldn’t do, would it? Now that he knew it wasn’t a joke, Gabriel was really interested. And that didn’t happen often, so he wanted this thing to go on as long as it could.

He flashed the kid a thumbs-up, and saw their face twist slightly, trying to hold in a laugh. Bingo. 

Looking a little less tense, the kid started talking, telling the story of how they fell down the mountain. Now that he thought about it, Gabriel had heard a few stories about Mount Ebbot, but he had written them off as local folklore. Damn, hindsight really was 20/20, huh?

It was certainly an entertaining story, and certainly not one he had ever expected to reach the ears of El Presidente. When Frisk was finished with their tale, they introduced the monsters behind them. The two goat creatures were Asgore and Toriel, the King and Queen of Monsters. The aggressive looking blue fish was the head of the Royal Guard, and the nervous dinosaur was the Royal Scientist. The skeletons (brothers, apparently) were both sentries. At first, Gabriel wondered why two ordinary sentries would be brought to such an important meeting, but after seeing the short one wink lazily at the kid and set them to grinning, he figured they were moral support. 

Well, that was almost as motley a crew as a certain pair of dangerously co-dependant, psychologically damaged brothers, a renegade angel, and a grumpy old man in a wheelchair he could name.

The meeting dragged on, and Gabriel’s sharp attention started to lag. Some important dudes were talking, Frisk was talking, the royal goats were talking, blah blah blah.

The short skeleton standing behind Frisk had actually fallen asleep standing up. Gabriel immediately decided that he liked that one. Father, this was getting boring! Something exciting needed to happen! Maybe he could make something exciting happen...hmmm.

There was old white dude in a suit among the line of important old white men in suits that had been a real dick throughout the entire ordeal. Asking insulting questions, looking smug and angry at the same time, somehow, hell, the guy had even called one of the monsters an “it”! Now, Gabriel wasn't huge on labels. But, dude, really. It?

He needed to be taught a little lesson in manners.

So the next time the guy spouted off something ridiculous and stupid, which happened to be “How do we know that our citizens would be safe from you brutes?” which, honestly, was an insulting and stupid enough question that it almost sounded fictional, Gabriel smirked and narrowed his eyes at the man, focusing for a second. 

 

PPPTTTHHHHBBBTTBBTTBTBBBTT!!!

 

All of a sudden, a loud, obnoxious fart noise tore through the room. People glanced at each other in confusion, wondering what had just happened. The tall skeleton turned towards his brother.

“SANS! NO WHOOPEE CUSHIONS!” he said in a rather loud voice.

The short skeleton, apparently named Sans, who had blinked awake at the noise, raised an eyebrow, in a skeleton sort of way.

“wasn't me, bro.”

Gabriel saw with immense satisfaction that the douchenozzle human was reaching into his pocket, where his phone was sitting. Gabriel smirked--the guy had a fart sound app on his phone, for Father’s sake--it was too easy! The guy turned off his phone, which had been on silent, and returned to his questioning.

 

**PPPBBBTTTHHPPPTTTHHHHBBBTTBBTTBTBBBTT!!!**

 

The noise came again thirty seconds later, this fart sound considerably louder and more like the morning after a Taco Bell binge. Now people were starting to glare at the guy, who was staring at his phone incredulously. Gabriel tucked his hands in his pockets. Sans grinned, and Frisk looked confused, like they weren’t sure whether or not to laugh.

The man started to speak, but he never got through his sentence.

 

PBBTTHHTT. BBBTTHHT. PPBBT...PPBBTTHH.

...

PPPPBBBBBBBTTTHHHHPPPBBBTTTTHHHT.

 

The man was now the color of a cherry tomato, and was clumsily trying to take the battery out of his phone. Some people in the audience were sniggering, mostly children, and Sans' eyes were wide in incredulous glee. Somehow the man kept standing there, speaking through the...interruptions.

But by the fifth time the noise rang out over the auditorium, the queen of monsters was glaring at the man in a way that made him glad looks couldn't kill, Sans was rolling on the floor laughing, and Frisk was practically choking with the effort of holding in their laughter.

The man was asked to leave.

Gabriel grinned triumphantly. There were few things in life that couldn't be made better by embarrassing an asshole in the most hilarious way possible.

The rest of the meeting went smoothly, and the monsters were granted temporary refuge, within a provided area far from civilization. It wasn't perfect, but they got their foot in the door. Good for them.

The meeting broke up, and some of the humans left immediately, grumbling to themselves, while others stuck around, trying to get a better look at the monsters, who were starting to file off stage. Gabriel wanted a closer look too, but lucky for him, he had a few tricks up his sleeves to make sure he had more success than these mud monkeys. There was the softest sound of fluttering wings, and he disappeared again. A little girl tugged on her mother's skirt, mouth open in awe.

“Mommy, Mommy, that man just disappeared!”

“Yes, Darla, now please stop tugging on mommy's skirt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow people actually want more of this! Woo!  
> I get to actually write Gabriel and Sans meeting!  
> (Which will happen in the next chapter, btw, so stay tuned!)


	3. 1-800-OH-SHIT, extension 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I ran into some major plot issues, but finally ironed them out, so here you go! Sans and the Trickster "meet".
> 
> heheh, am I a bad person?
> 
> probably.

Gabriel followed the group of monsters through the streets, using just enough of his waning angel mojo to keep them from seeing him. Eventually, they reached a small encampment full of tents and monsters milling about, the adults chatting quietly as the kids (who were all curiously dressed in striped shirts) kicked a ball around. Out of the corner of his eye, Gabriel saw a man who seemed to be made entirely of fire cooking over a fire. He wondered briefly if the monster could cook over his own flame, but was shaken out of his thoughts by a drastic volume change. The moment the Ambassador and their party entered the camp, everyone went silent. All heads turned to the party, and the ball the kids had been playing with rolled to a stop, forgotten.

The party glanced among themselves. The fish gestured to the kind to share the news, but he shook his head and looked to the queen, who rolled her eyes in exasperation and motioned back to him, but he put up his hands, looking back to her to—

“WE GET TO STAY ON THE SURFACE!” the taller skeleton shouted, and the entire camp cheered with wild abandon. Sans chuckled, and the rest of the party grinned at the taller skeleton’s childish impatience, and then Frisk and the other carriable monsters were whisked away on shoulders to the middle of the camp, and the larger royals were ushered, but nobody tried to pick them up.

Gabriel wanted to follow them more, but was unsure of whether or not he would be able to remain unseen. However, as the cheers got softer and farther away, curiosity and impatience won over and Gabriel started forwards, relying on good old-fashioned stealth to keep him out of sight. He managed to get almost to the center of the camp, and could even see the giant gathering of celebrating monsters, when a voice suddenly piped up a few feet away.

“Is something moving?” Gabriel froze.

“…I can only see moving things… so if someone were moving out there…”

“Nope, I’m not moving.” The words slipped out before he could reconsider them, but luckily, the dog…in a cargo vest…smoking a dog treat…just nodded once.

“Good!” and then the dog didn’t say anything more. Gabriel kept still, unsure of what to do. He wanted to see what was going on, but he couldn’t move…suddenly, an idea occurred to him, and he had to exert an impressive amount of willpower to keep himself from smacking his forehead.

There was a flutter of wings, and Doggo paused for a second. Had something moved…?

…he needed another dog treat.

 

.o.O.o.

 

When Frisk sat around the fire with their friends, they couldn’t stop smiling. When they dug into Grillby’s food, they couldn’t stop smiling. When Papyrus complained about the food, they couldn’t stop smiling. The trend continued similarly all evening until their cheeks started to hurt, but they couldn’t help it. They had done it. They had gotten the monsters out of the underground. They had convinced humanity to accept them, albeit distrustfully. This was the happy ending they had been working towards. They could finally stop the resets. They had done everything right, every single thing...

…well… _almost_ …

No, there was no sense dwelling on that. They couldn’t fix…that. They had tried. God, they had _tried!_ They had tried everything they possibly could, gone at the issue from every possible angle, even, to their resigned horror, tried every combination of life and death, and nothing had saved…

Nothing had saved him. Nothing would. They had to just…let it go. They couldn’t do any more resets. They couldn’t. They didn’t want to, for one, they were so tired of the same adventure, the same dialogue, the same battles.

But more importantly, so was Sans.

Frisk knew they had messed up with Sans. They didn’t know if the skeleton would ever really trust them after all they had done, and they were willing to accept that. They had certainly earned that, they had no right to expect any different. They needed to stop, to give up, not for their own sake, but for his.

And for _his._

But by god, if it didn’t still hurt. Giving up on a goal wasn’t in their nature, and giving up on a person was even less so, but they had tried _everything_ and nothing had worked; it was time to move on. They would never stop looking for a way to help him, but from now on, they would be looking in the future, not in the past. It was time to put the past behind them, and leave it there.

So they ate good food, with good friends, and shared bad laughs, and ignored the phantom feeling of eyes on their back.

 

.o.O.o.

 

When Sans woke up in the morning, he was confused. The ceiling looked weird…

Oh. _Oh._

They were on the surface. Again. For good this time, if the kid was to be believed. And, strangely enough, he did believe them. When they had told him, last night, right before they fell asleep on Paps’ shoulder, there had been a certain look in their eyes, a look that he knew all too well.

Determination.

This really was it. This was the end. No, this was the beginning. God, he hoped it was the beginning. It…it had to be. The kid had to be telling the truth. They….had to be. They were, of course. Of course. Of…course? A pale blue glow started to reflect off of the ceiling of the tent, and he forced himself to calm down. He would just…take each day as it came. One thing at a time.

First thing’s first…he was going back to sleep.

Second thing’s second…Papyrus was not going to let him go back to sleep.

“C’MON, LAZYBONES, I KNOW YOU’RE UP! WE ARE NEEDED IN ASGORE AND LADY ASGORE’S TENT! I EXPECT YOU THERE IN FIVE MINUTES!”

Sans rubbed his eyes as his brother’s voice assaulted him from outside the tent, and he wondered vaguely how long his brother had been up for. He yawned and sat up. Suddenly, a deluge of blue glitter fell with an airy _fwumph_ over his skull. He froze, blinking a few times, distantly noting that there was about a metric fuckton of glitter now floating through the air of the tent, glinting prettily in the light.

_What the…?_

He looked up, and saw an upended bucked suspended by strings hanging just behind his cot. A little bit of glitter was still inside the bucket, but not enough to obscure the piece of paper taped to the bottom. Sans shook his head, sending glitter flying everywhere. He shuddered at the feeling of it drifting down underneath his shirt and settling on his bones, where he hoped to god he would eventually be able to remove it all before the end of time itself. He reached up, and finally saw what had triggered the bucket to fall—a string tied to his radius. He pulled down his arm, and the bucket tilted up. Lifted his arm, the string lost tension and the bucket fell. It was…pretty clever, actually.

Man, his brother was cool. He had probably gotten the glitter from that obnoxious not-a-calculator-anymore Mettaton. He chuckled at the thought of his brother finally appreciating his brand of humor. He reached into the bucket and peeled the letter away, unfolding it with a grin.

 

_Welcome to the Surface! Have fun. Don’t let your guard down, and don’t let the Winchesters find you, or they’ll kill you all. If you have any questions, call 1-800-OH-SHIT, extension 5._

_\--The Trickster._

 

Sans read the note, and then re-read it, and then re-read it again. Well, it seems Papyrus wasn't the prankster after all, he thought as he stared down the signature, which was very obviously not in his brother's handwriting. The Trickster. Huh. He wondered who that was, and who the Winchesters were, and if that phone number actually worked. Well, one way to find out. He pulled out his phone, and dialed the number.

_“Hello. If you’re hearing this, then you must be Sans the skeleton. Dial 1 for customer service. Dial 2 for an hour-long sham-wow advertisement. Dial 3 for a beautifully moving rock ballad about mashed potatoes. Dial—“_

Sans pressed 5.

“Heh. Impatient much? You woulda liked four.” Came a smug voice from the other end of the phone. Sans frowned, not interested in banter for once in his life. They were finally, _finally_ , on the surface, moving forwards, and he was not going to let anything get in the way of that.

“who are you? how did you get into our camp, and who are these winchesters?” Sans asked, getting straight to business. It was too bad, really. The guy actually sounded kinda funny, and Sans wished they coulda met under circumstances that didn’t involve a death threat.

“Hmmm…tell ya what. I will answer…one question for free. And then the cost goes up to one prank per question.” The owner of the voice sounded rather smug, and Sans blinked, then scowled.

“what, i have to get pranked to get answers?” he asked incredulously. Was this guy serious? The Trickster was withholding critical information so he could _prank_ him?

“Oh, no no no, my bad-to-the-bone compadre! You have to prank _me_ to get answers.”

“i don’t even know you.” Sans growled, “i don’t know who you are, or where you are, or even how you managed to sneak in here, how am i supposed to prank you?” he asked, and heard an audible shrug come through the phone.

“That sounds like a you problem. So, what’s your freebie question?”

Sans hesitated. He didn't want to play this guy's game. But the opportunity for information was tempting, and in the end, he gave in, hating himself a little bit for it. “tell me about the winchesters.” he grit out.

“Ah-ah-ah! That’s not a question, bone boy.” The voice sing-songed, and Sans gripped the phone tighter, grinding his teeth together.

“listen here, punk, i don’t know who you are, but if my family and friends are in danger, i am not screwing around. who. are. the winchesters?”

There was a silence from the other end, and for one terrifying second, Sans thought the guy had hung up. Then there was a dry laugh crackling across the line and the voice spoke again.

“Well, you are quite persuasive. Despite the fact that your implied threat is completely empty and useless, I’ll humor you. The Winchesters, Sam and Dean, are two brothers who have devoted their lives to hunting monsters.”

Sans’ soul went cold.

“w-what?”

“…Y’know, I’m not really sure if that counts as a second question, or a request for clarification.” The voice chided. “What do you think?”

“they…hunt monsters?”

“Yeperoonie, Sansy boy! But don’t worry, they only hunt monsters that kill people. They like to think that they’ve got some sort of twisted moral high ground. As long as none of you are vampires, werewolves, demons, wendigos, or anything of the like, you’ll…probably be fine.”

Sans froze, and then the tent lit up cyan and he had to keep himself from crushing the phone. Vampires? Werewolves? The guy was fucking joking, when his family and friends’ lives could be on the line.

“is this some sort of sick joke? because. buddy. i’ve had my fair share of those, and i’m sick of ‘em.”

“Oh, no, this is no joke, Sans.” The voice was suddenly somber. “Trust me, the Winchesters are a very real threat. But on the plus side, every sickeningly sweet yet strangely effective pacifistic word that Frisk says is being televised, so there’s no way they’ll miss that. And despite the fact that they’re total meatheads, they’re not _total_ meatheads. There is a chance they’ll leave you alone when they see that you’re peaceful.”

Sans forced himself to loosen his grip on the phone and sat down on the bed, putting his head in his hands. Glitter fell in flecks off of his skull as he digested all of the information. When he didn’t reply, the voice spoke up again, sounding blithe and joking as it had for the rest of the conversation, but with an undertone of…encouragement?

“…and on another plus side? I like you guys. So you’ve got me on your side, too.”

Sans snorted. “so? i don't even know you, and i sure as hell don't trust you.”

“…Aw, fine, one more freebie cuz you’re just so darn cute. You should be glad I'm on your side because I'm the Trickster, the guy who managed to follow you all the way to your camp unseen, get past all your "guards", sneak into your tent, and set up my patented glitter bomb in fifteen seconds. And you should trust me because I managed to foil six assassination attempts on the little ambassador last night alone, and right now, you guys need someone like me watching your backs. I think a prank war is a pretty small price to pay for that.”

And then the line went dead.

Sans stared at the phone, trying to comprehend the conversation he had just had. It felt like a dream, part nightmare, part forgot-your-pants-at-home ridiculousness. There was a definite threat out there that might try to kill them, but there was also glitter in every joint on his body.

…but what else was new? (in regards to the threat, not the glitter.) And if the Trickster was to be believed, and that was a very big if, then he was on their side, that he was willing to help them enough that he would foil six assassination attempts…oh wow, he didn’t want to think about that. How could that happen? Six? Already? Geez. He would have to keep a closer eye on that kid.

Sans stood up, and threw on his hoodie, stuffed his feet into his slippers, and made his way to the King and Queen’s planning tent.

“Sans, why are you covered in glitter?” Frisk asked, and Undyne glanced up, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. Toriel stifled a giggle, and Asgore just looked confused.

“well, you see…” Sans paused. He should really tell the king and queen about the Winchesters, about the threat they posed. But…something in him really didn’t want to do that. Besides, they had to know that some humans were going to hate them, whether they knew the names or not was irrelevant. And he had gotten the tip from a random guy who pranked him with glitter, so who knew if it was even legitimate? Maybe there weren’t even any Winchesters at all, maybe it was just another trick to freak them out. He decided that he would look into these Winchesters a bit, play along, and keep an eye out. That would be enough for now, Toriel and Asgore had enough to worry about as it was.

“…i’m trying out a new style.”

“THAT’S LOVELY, BROTHER! YOU LOOK ALMOST LIKE METTATON WITH ALL THAT GLITTER!”

…Well, that’s just _great_.

 

.o.O.o.

 

“I’m going to fucking kill that winged dickhead.”

“Again?”

“I didn’t do it the first time!”

“Just, calm down, okay? Look, his note says to check the news story about the press conference with the monsters, so I’m gonna do that. Then we’ll deal with Gabriel.”

“Oh, we’ll deal with him alright. They call glitter the herpes of craft supplies for a reason, this shit will _never_ come out.”

“Hey, at least you don’t have to worry about it getting stuck in your hair.”

“It’s not my fault you have fucking rapunzel hair. And at least your glitter isn’t _pink!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha, because this wouldn't be a true undertale fic if Sans was actually HONEST about what's bothering him. pffft.  
> Next chapter: Pranks. that's pretty much it. Stay tuned!
> 
> P.S. you should totally comment with what you think extension 4 was! ;)


	4. Chapter 4 - Also, Gabriel totally digs Tom Hiddleston

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp. There are considerably less pranks than I was hoping for this chapter. Whoops. But, instead, you get plot! And a player 3! I have no idea where this story is going let's find out together wheeeeee!

Gabriel watched the monster’s camp from a tree near its outskirts, his eyes half-lidded and barely registering anything. Doggo was on watch right now, and the combination of complete stillness and a lack of anything interesting happening in the camp had nearly put him to sleep. It had only been two days since the glitter attack, and already he was getting very, very bored of this whole thing. Even Sans, who had seemed so promising in the beginning, was beginning to run stale. Sure, his endless arsenal of puns was impressive, but after a while, that got boring too. And the skeleton didn’t even seem to be trying to prank him! Gabriel was starting to wonder if the skeleton was ignoring him, or just wasn’t interested in the game. In fact, Gabriel never really saw much of Sans at all. Which was weird, because he saw him a lot. Every time he thought about the skeleton, he was there, but he got the feeling that the moment he forgot about him, Sans was off. Gabriel didn’t know what the skeleton did, which was a fun mystery, but since he didn’t really have any clue how to figure it out, that quickly lost its allure. This whole monster thing had gone from a pleasant diversion to an annoying responsibility.

And Gabriel hated responsibility. 

Gabriel’s lagging attention was brought back by Frisk exiting Toriel’s tent with a big striped bag and a huge grin on their face. He wondered what that was all about, especially once Toriel poked her head out of the tent, calling worriedly after Frisk as they raced out of the camp.

“Be careful, child! Sans, make sure they are safe?”

“yeah, ‘course tori.” Sans replied, appearing out of nowhere as usual. Frisk grinned up at him, and tugged on his hand, eager to go wherever they were going to go.

“You wanna take a shortcut, kid?” Sans asked, and Frisk shook their head hesitantly.

“Aw, geez, you’re gonna give me a workout.” Sans griped with a chuckle, and Frisk shrugged.

“We can’t just teleport into a library!” they said. “Besides, it’s a ten minute walk, and it’s really nice out!”

Gabriel’s eyes opened fully. Teleport? What about teleporting? Could Sans do that? He squinted at the two as they walked out of the camp. Well, the kid had mentioned a library, and there was only one close by, so he might as well go on ahead. Gabriel grinned. Things were looking more interesting, finally, and on top of that, he got to do one of his favorite things: hiding in plain sight.

 

.o.O.o.

 

About five minutes after Gabriel had plopped himself down in one of those cushy library chairs that ate you alive with a copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, the dynamic duo walked in. Gabriel’s eyes flicked up for a brief second, then he looked back down and continued reading about the cow that was serving itself. However, he kept his ears open, and then reluctantly looked up again when he realized that the library was too quiet for him to hear anything that would be in any way informative. Frisk was happily looking over the kid’s section, but Sans was sitting in front of a computer. Gabriel looked back at his book, counted to thirty, and then looked up again, to see the skeleton still there. If Sans was looking for a book, surely he would have found it by now. Which meant that the skeleton was doing online research. That was interesting. Gabriel wanted to see what the skeleton was doing, he really really wanted to see, but there was no way to get over there without breaking his cover. Unless…

With a sigh, Gabriel resigned himself to using yet more of his waning angel mojo, and turned himself briefly unnoticeable. He walked over and stood behind the skeleton, watching his monitor. And then something strange happened. The moment Gabriel stood behind Sans, he froze. Gabriel frowned. Sans couldn't have noticed him, surely? Maybe monsters were less susceptible to that trick? But no, that should have worked on anybody. Sans slowly turned around, and Gabriel felt his heart beat faster, wondering if the skeleton would see him. Oh, how interesting that would be! For someone to finally see through a trick right away, for someone to be on his level…!

But no.

The skeleton looked right through him, eye sockets scanning the room. Gabriel sighed, and waited for the skeleton to turn back around. But he didn’t. Instead, he started muttering, making weird sounds and clicks and murmurs that sounded like a glitching computer, or randomized code, or maybe the verbal translation of wingdings, if such such a thing existed. Gabriel couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but Sans only made the sounds for maybe twelve seconds, then waited another few, as if anticipating a reply. What was he looking for? Was the skeleton actually insane? Or did he know something Gabriel didn’t? Man, this guy was like a yo-yo. One minute he was boring and dry, and the next he was the most interesting thing Gabriel had ever seen. 

After a few seconds of silence, Sans sighed, dropped his head, and then chuckled lowly.

“thought it mighta been you that time, dings.” he muttered, as if to himself, and then turned back around to his computer. 

...maybe he was insane. 

But insane or not, Gabriel watched as the skeleton opened the internet, and then started typing in the search bar.

 

_Winchesters Monsters Killings_

 

Gabriel grinned. He had hooked him. The skeleton wasn’t ignoring him! He was going to play the game! The skeleton scanned the results, and clicked on an article about the Winchesters, and how they were brutal murderers who had escaped FBI custody. Gabriel chuckled. This would only add to the suspense! He watched the skeleton’s face carefully as he read, already excited about how he would react. And he was not disappointed; when Sans got to the part about the Winchesters being serial murderers, his eyelights went out, and his fingers gripped the mouse so hard the plastic started to crack. His rictus grin dropped entirely, and it was actually a little unnerving;the skeleton was completely quiet and still, and that expression…

When he was done reading the article, he clicked another, and another. Most of them said the same thing, but one of them mentioned a witness. Gabriel glanced over the statement, and frowned, not remembering that particular case. 

“what….?” sans muttered to himself, rereading the statement.

 

_“You guys don’t understand, they saved my life!” reported a witness. “There was this huge monster, and it was going to kill me! They saved me! I know it looked like a person, but it was a monster!” the witness was deemed mentally unfit to give testimony and was moved to Saint Barne’s Asylum for the Mentally Ill._

“that doesn’t make any sense.” Sans muttered to himself. He read through a few more articles, some containing redeeming witness reports, some not, until finally Frisk came up and tapped him on the shoulder. Sans jumped about a foot in the air and hurriedly closed the window, before turning around and grinning at them, all traces of his previous worry gone in an instant. 

“Oh, ‘sup, kiddo?” he asked. “you ready to go?”

Gabriel retreated back to his chair, and turned off the unnoticablility. When Frisk and Sans came back through, going towards the lobby with a huge bag of books, Frisk saw Gabriel, and grinned hugely, running over to him. Gabriel blinked, not expecting this at all. 

“Oh, hey there, Frisky Bits.” Gabriel said with a grin.

“Hi mister! I never got to say thank you after the meeting, I didn’t know you lived around here!”

“Oh, no problem bucko, you did great.” he said, Sans finally ambling up behind them. He glanced back at the skeleton.

“Who’s your friend?” He asked the kid.

“Oh, this is my dunkle Sans!” they said. The skeleton nodded. 

“hey.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“What’s your name, mister?” Frisk asked, and Gabriel paused, struck by the usual dilemma. He had so many names, which one to give the kid? He couldn’t call himself the Trickster with Sans right there, Gabriel was out for obvious reasons, so by process of elimination, the best choice was…

“Loki. Nice to meetcha.”

“Wait, Loki like in the Avengers?”

Gabriel had to laugh at this. He had seen the movie, he had seen the guy who played him, and he had to admit, it was a fine piece of work. There were some great lines in there, and the character was surprisingly relatable.

“Yeah, just like the Avengers.” he said with a grin, and Frisk giggled. Sans looked thoughtful, and Gabriel wondered what was going through his head.

“Well, I’ll see you around, Loki!” they called, waving goodbye as they for the checkout counter.

“Bye Frisk! ...See ya, Sansy.” he said, smirking at the skeleton who nodded hesitantly, and followed the kid out. 

 

.o.O.o.

 

It had been another day since the library, and now Gabriel was getting extremely impatient. Sans hadn't done anything! No pranks, no more research, hell, he barely seemed to move from his tent except when he went grocery shopping with his brother! (Admittedly though, Papyrus’ reaction to the pasta aisle was absolutely priceless.)

Gabriel decided he'd give Sans one last chance. He'd prank him one more time, just a little wake-up call, and if the skeleton still did nothing, he'd move one. He did feel a little bad about leaving Frisk to the mercy of the assassins which he had been...dealing with...for the past few days but, eh. He had done worse things. 

That night, he snuck once again into the encampment, grinning at his clever plan, and made his way to the skelebro’s tent. He listened for a moment, making sure they were both asleep. Then he grabbed the rubber snakes he had brought and lifted the tent flap…

SPLASH!!!

A bucket of green paint upended itself on his head. He reflexively lowered his head to keep the paint from dripping in his eyes (although, he realized with some confusion that it was non-toxic kids paint, so it didn't really matter) which was lucky, because the next thing he knew, there was a flashlight being aimed at his head. 

“heh, gotcha--” Sans said with a grin, which quickly turned into a confused frown when the man disappeared with a flash of gold and the sound of...wings? He didn't even get a good look at the guy, covered in paint as he was. He was completely bewildered. The Trickster had fallen for his prank, but then he just up and vanished. And Sans could tell it wasn't the same sort of spatial displacement magic he himself used because...well. Whatever magic the Trickster had used, which would have been invisible to human eyes, had been...bright. Like, incredibly bright, and powerful. So powerful it was actually ridiculous.

And terrifying.

What was he dealing with here? First monster hunting brothers, and now this? The trickster might have seemed human, but that sort of magic seemed way more powerful than even a boss monsters’. He was at a loss. He would ask the Dogs to track the magic signature, but when the guy left there was nothing to track; he left a magical deadspot, a void.

_Here, ~~Sans…~~  _

Sans gasped as he heard the all-too familiar garbled voice, glitching and almost too soft to hear, but definitely there. His soul soared with hope, and he whirled around, looking for--

Nothing. There was nothing there, except...was that there before? He leaned over and picked it up off of his pillow. 

A beautiful, slender golden feather, with the same magical signature as the Trickster. He grinned. 

“thanks, dings.” he said quietly to the empty room.

 

.o.O.o.

 

When Gabriel got back to his little hideaway, he couldn't help but laugh. This was awesome! Sans hadn't been ignoring him, he was waiting for him to show himself! Man, that skeleton was a lot cleverer than he let on. Gabriel snapped his fingers to get rid of the paint, and then unwrapped a dum-dum pop. Mystery flavor, of course.

Gabriel loved the unexpected.

Suddenly he tilted his head, a look of fierce concentration coming over his face as he tried to pinpoint whatever that sound was. It kinda sounded like a glitching white noise track, with a broken Pacman machine playing over it. But after a few moments, it resolved itself into a glitching, hissing voice.

_I'd appreciate it if you'd stop messing with my son…_  the voice said with dry disdain.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows.

“Would that be Sans Sr. I have the pleasure of conversing with, then?” he asked with a jovial grin.

_My name is Doctor Gaster. And you will cease this game, or--_

The voice was cut off by the single most annoying ringtone on planet Earth. Gabriel held up one finger to the disembodied voice to tell it to wait as he all but lunged for the phone.

“Well, hello there, Sansy boy.” he said, not even bothering to check the caller ID.

“i got you. now you gotta answer a question.” sans said without preamble.

“Hmmm, that you did. Alright, shoot.”

“where are the winchesters now?”

Gabriel tilted his head, staring up at the ceiling as he thought. Hm. A sensible question, to be sure. Very sensible. Very well thought-out. Very...boring. so boring he almost didn't want to answer it. But he made a deal, and he didn't take those lightly.

“they're at a gas station in...Indiana. gross. And I know you didn't technically ask this, but...they're headed your way.” 

There was a silence from the other end.

“Oh, hey! I was just talking to--”

Sparks started flying from the phone and he threw it to the ground, watching as odd black smoke started leaking from the screen. 

_Either help them or get out…_

Doctor Gaster said irritably. His voice was fading out though, like a radio that was losing signal. Gabriel raised his eyebrows.

“Well gee, Doc, I thought that's what I was doing.” he said innocently. The voice didn't respond.

The dum-dum pop turned out to be Pina colada flavored. He loved those.

 

.o.O.o.

 

“How much farther to the place?”

“Only a few more states. Should be about a day and a half--if you follow speed limits.”

Rare laughter rang in the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel's ringtone for Sans is this: https://youtu.be/1qN72LEQnaU  
> You're welcome. 
> 
> Let's play "How Many Different Ways Can I Describe Gaster's Text Speech" ft. Doctor Wing Dings "done with this shit" Gaster. 
> 
> I think the big thing will happen soon. What is the big thing? Who knows? But it's coming! For you! Better check under your bed. Or in your closet. Or in your tube of toothpaste.
> 
> I need need go to bed.


	5. Book of Revelation(s you didn't want to have in the middle of the goddamn movie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha welp.

Sans woke up really groggy. He felt like he had slept for….god, how long had it been since the story was updated--August? Wow, was this author a human garbage can or what? 

Anyways, Sans rolled out of bed and left the tent. But no sooner had he blinked a few times to get the sun out of his eyes than he was pounced upon by a certain human. 

“Dunkle Sans, dunkle Sans!” They cried, jumping up and down. Sans grinned. 

“sup, frisk? what are you doin' so energetic this early?” 

Frisk groaned, throwing their head back melodramatically. 

“Saaaaaans, it's noon!” They said, “but guess what?”

“chicken butt?” That joke book from the library was a goldmine. 

“NOOOOO!” Frisk cried, and sans snickered. The kid dragged their hands down their face in exasperation before continuing. “Alphys set up a TV screen in the main area! We can watch movies!” 

Sans raised an eyebrow, mentally betting that an episode of Mew Mew Kissie Cutie would be the screens first showing, and also that it had probably already happened. 

“So we gotta go to the library and get some movies for movie night!”

“we?” Sans asked, and frisk pouted. 

“Toriel won't let me go by myself, but she's busy soooo…”

The human put their hands behind their back and dug their toe into the dirt, looking up at him pleadingly through their bangs. The hair partially obscuring their eyes made him think of another time they had looked at him like that, red eyes glinting in the golden light… he took a deep breath and focused on the present. Movie night. Library. Focus, damn you. Movie Night. Come on.

“yeah, sure kid. let's go.”

“Yes!” Frisk jumped in the air and grinned wide enough to rival their skeletal companion, and then skipped ahead of him on the familiar path to the library. And it _was_ familiar by now; Frisk apparently loved learning and reading, and they made a trip to the library at least once every few days for new reading material. Sans usually got slated to go with them, but he found he didn't mind too much. It looked like the library had a pretty decent non fiction section, which he had only strolled through once, tense and listening for whispers that weren't there, but their kids section had an  _ entire shelf _ dedicated to joke books. 

Sans almost went home with as many books as Frisk, which Papyrus  _loved._ Seriously, that moment when his brother saw the titles of those books...Sans wished he had a camera.

But this time they bypassed the books altogether, and headed straight for the DVDs. Frisk looked through them, eventually pulling out a relatively new looking box with a collection of weirdly dressed humans on the front. Well, he was pretty sure they were all humans, but the green one was debatable. He hadn't met a green human before, but hey. Humans were weird. 

“Ooh, the Avengers! Good pick, kiddo,” came a voice from just to Sans’ left, and he just barely avoided jumping a foot in the air. Usually it was  _ him _ sneaking up on people, not the other way around. 

“Loki!” Frisk greeted the man with a grin, and Sans nodded a polite greeting, but didn't say anything. Something about this guy had always seemed...off, to him. Maybe it was his voice. It always sounded like the guy was in on a joke that nobody else knew about, another thing Sans wasn't used to being on the receiving end of.

“Hey Frisky bits,” the man said with a grin, “Gonna watch my namesake beat the good guys?” Frisk giggled at this.

“No, Loki loses!” they said confidently, but the man just raised a single eyebrow.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah!”

“Hmmm. Okay...but you gotta be careful with Loki. He’s a pretty tricky guy.”

Some sort of warning bells were ringing in Sans’ skull, something here was nearing a dangerous precipice that he didn’t want to go off of. He put a hand on Frisk’s shoulder.

“We should get going, kid,” he said, “fun talkin’ with ya again, loki.”

“Uh-huh. Be seein’ you around, Sansy!”

More warning bells. Something was horridly familiar here, he could tell he was missing something incredibly important, but he just couldn’t put his phalange on it. 

God, he hated that feeling. 

 

.o.O.o.

 

“They said it was here?”

“On Mt. Ebbot, yeah.”

There was a sigh.

“Didn’t bother tellin’ us  _ where _ on this big-ass mountain it was, though, did they.”

“Nope.” a popped p, another sigh.

“So we drive around then.”

“What else is new?”

 

.o.O.o.

 

Movie night was a big deal. Everyone in the camp gathered around the small screen, kids in front and the boss monsters at the very back. They all settled in, Grillby supplied popcorn from who knows where, and Frisk put the disk in with much pomp and circumstance. 

“Now, you should all know something before we watch this,” they said, looking out over the crowd. The monsters gathered listened silently.

“This movie was made on the surface before you arrived. Which means, unfortunately…” they glanced down at the dirt, a sorrowful expression on their face.

“...Mettaton will not be appearing in it.”

The crowd gasped.

“WHAAAT?!” Papyrus’ voice, of course, carried over the rest, and definitely would have carried over Sans’ if he had said anything. Which he didn’t. It would be nice to see a movie without that shiny calculator in it, honestly. But the rest of the monsters had to take a few minutes to adjust themselves to this fact before settling down again.

“I just wanted to warn you beforehand,” Frisk said, and then hit play. 

They returned to their seat between Sans and Alphys and the movie started, a hush falling over the monsters as they watched. Well, most of the monsters.

“WOWEE, I DIDN’T KNOW HUMANS HAD BLUE MAGIC TOO!” Papyrus exclaimed as they watched the tesseract explode on-screen. Undyne shushed him, and he fell silent as Frisk whispered into his….ear….that it was all just special effects. And then Loki appeared, and Frisk leaned over to Sans.

“That’s the guy with the same name as the other guy from the library!” They whispered to him, pointing excitedly to the pale man on the screen. 

“THE SAME NAME? ARE THEY RELATED THEN?” Papyrus asked, then Undyne replied by gently suplexing him for talking during the movie, and that was the end of the discussion. But Sans found himself watching that particular character rather closely. So. Library dude was a bad guy. Well. His namesake was, anyways. 

“Why is he poking those people with his spear, instead of impaling them?!” Undyne asked, and Frisk giggled.

“He’s not trying to kill them, he just wants to control them! Loki’s not violent, he’s just tricky. He’s the Trickster God, after all!”

Sans’ soul went cold.

The...Trickster God? Trickster. Loki. The guy from the Library.

_ “Be seein’ you around, Sansy!” _

No, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be that simple. Couldn’t it? That guy from the library...he couldn’t be the Trickster. It had to be a coincidence. 

“it can’t be him. just some random guy at the library,” he muttered to himself, shaking his skull.

All of a sudden, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He froze, then shortcutted away to his tent, and pulled it out, recognizing the number he had been too lazy to assign a contact to immediately. 

It had to be a coincidence. He flipped the phone open, held it up to his ear.

“hello?”

“You should know by now not to believe in coincidences, Sansy. Congrats on figuring it out by the way, it sure took you long enough.”

_ Click. _

Sans held the phone away from his face and stared at it incredulously for a good few minutes. The Trickster, the one who had been making his life a living hell, was some random guy from the library. He had walked right by the Trickster without realizing it  _ countless times _ . God, he was stupid.

But what did he do now? Did he even want to find this guy? Well, okay, of course he did, but that would take a lot of effort, and he had a reputation to uphold. What could the trickster even offer at this point? Undyne, or the King and Queen could easily handle anything the Winchesters might try, and if that failed, well, he’d burn that bridge when he got to it. It’d be fine. 

That being said, killing a couple random humans couldn’t be good for the monster’s public image.

But it wasn’t some  _ random _ humans, it was known murderers. So it’d be fine. 

Unless…

Sans’ useless circular thinking was interrupted by the tent getting lit up by the flipping sun, apparently, because he had to cover his eye sockets to keep from going blind. He stumbled his way out of the tent, and came face-to-face with a pair of headlights. There was the sound of car doors slamming, and then two humans stepped out, tall and scowling and both holding guns.

Great.

**Author's Note:**

> I have more of this written, so let me know if you want more of it! If nobody's interested, I guess it'll just...  
> join Gaster in the void?  
> Yeah. That guy could probably use some new reading material. Even if it's trash.


End file.
